The Price of Failure
by BonniePrincess
Summary: Five years after his coronation, a series of internal and external threats put the High King’s leadership to the test. As he struggles to solve his kingdom’s woes, Peter fails to notice the biggest danger of all...the assassin sent to take his life.
1. The Decision

**_The Price of Failure_**

**Summary: Five years after his coronation, a series of internal and external threats put the High King's leadership to the test. As he struggles to solve his kingdom's woes, Peter fails to notice the biggest danger of all…the assassin sent to take his life. **

**Golden Age Fic. **

**Peter-centric (with a heavy dose of Edmund).**

_Disclaimer: I do not, of course, own Narnia, nor do I possess a fraction of Lewis' genius_

A/N I usually hate when stories begin by focusing on an original character, but alas, I have attempted such an opening. The plot bunny will not leave me, so here it is. This should be the only Pevensie- lite chapter, and I hope it is tolerable. Tried very hard not to make her too Mary Sue, but let me know if that has been a success or not. Any feedback is good! It has been ages since I read the books (I am reading them again, but am only on Prince Caspian) so I hope I have not made any massive blunders on the details.

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She could finally see the bright lights of Cair Paravel in the distance.

After an agonizingly long and lonely journey, her destination was within her grasp, but the stoic look on her face as she rode through the thick Narnian forest showed no joy at this realization. Unlike the many dignitaries, nobles and citizens who often flocked to the palace, she did not anticipate a pleasant visit. She wished that she could turn back now and ride off into obscurity without completing the grim task at hand…but she knew that that was not an option.

She had, like many others of her generation, grown up hearing glorious stories about the early years of the Narnian court and she, along with the rest of her village on the island of Doorn, had rejoiced when she heard the news of the White Witches defeat and the arrival of the four kings and queens of the prophecy. She could remember the day that the happy news arrived; she and her sister had stayed up well into the night, partaking in the local festivities and vowing that they would one day, together, visit the wonderful kingdom of Narnia. They had dreamt of kings and queens, talking animals, dancing fauns, and magnificent balls held in (what they imagined to be) the elegant great hall of the Cair. As they drifted off to sleep, both had asked Aslan for the chance to one day visit the place that had now been restored to its former glory.

She sighed and tired to bury the recollection. It had only been five years since that night, but it felt like a lifetime ago. So much had changed since then, and she now found herself making the once desired trek to Cair Paravel alone; her childish wish had come true, but certainly not in the way she had once hoped. Five years ago, she would have given almost anything for the chance to venture out of her small village. Now, she wished that this had never come to pass.

Glancing up at the darkening sky, she nudged her horse to speed up his trot. Nothing could be gained from prolonging this miserable expedition, and she knew it was best not to spend her time mulling over the situation. She could not afford to back out or have second thoughts, too much rested on her success.

Her family, her village, and her life, hinged on her actions over the upcoming weeks.

As much as she hated the situation, failure would come with a heavy cost. One that she could not think she could bear.

The horse, though tired from their long journey, could sense his lady's urgency, and began moving towards the Cair as fast as his exhausted legs could carry him. She gave him an affectionate pat as they surged ahead.

"Thank you, old friend." She whispered, her fingers lingering in his dark mane. "I am glad to have your company."

Not being native to the area, and thus unable to verbally reply, he gave a slight nod, and hoped that whatever was troubling his lady would soon be remedied.

Her eyes remained fixed on the palace as it continued to draw nearer and nearer. She wished that she could ignore the dread building in the pit of her stomach, but it was already too powerful to ignore. All she wanted was to be back in the village, helping her mother with the harvest, or enjoying her sister's company by the firelight. Such things had once seemed so incredibly mundane, and it was a shame that it had taken the upheaval of the last few months to make her appreciate what she had once had.

The arrival of Lord Daegan's troops had signalled the beginning of the end.

At first, the village had simply been confused by the sudden appearance of a number of armoured men on the edge of their settlement, but business had gone on as usual. People had tended to their crops, cared for their families, gathered to share music and stories- not much had changed, though many could not push the ominous presence of the mysterious soldiers from the back of their minds. Some, in secret late night meetings held by concerned members of the community, proposed approaching the new arrivals, and asking them (or even forcing them) to leave the village. Others had felt this to be too perilous, and preferred instead to ignore their presence and hope that they soon moved on. In the end, most had agreed that it is best to wait it out, and see if the uneasy situation would pass.

Looking back, this now seemed to be their first big mistake.

Weeks had passed, and the men (who set up a camp on the edge of town) had not left. Thankfully, they had not yet entered the main village either, and a lack of incidents had discouraged any aggressive action from the villagers. If they were left alone, they were willing to carry on as usual.

As the harvest began, however, the situation changed. Rumour had it that the mysterious soldiers were becoming low on rations, and people began to see the men edging closer to the town. Soon, some began to enter, and the community was outraged when one of the solders affronted Edern, one of the oldest men in the village, and demanded that he give the corn he had gathered for the market to troops without payment. Edern had tried to refuse, but the old widower could do little to hold off the armed young man.

After this, a group of the village's strongest men had been appointed to approach the solders and demand that they state their purpose. Some had come back beaten and bruised, but the information they desired had been obtained.

They were Lord Daegan's men, it was reported. Few had heard of this mysterious lord before but, according to the solders, he had recently overthrown the rightful ruler of their Island and was hoping to bring of the Lone Islands under his control. Most fell silent at the news, not knowing what now lay ahead.

A few weeks later, a particularly brutish looking solder had entered the village square and declared that Lord Deagan's mission had been a success, and that all Islanders were now obliged to pay tribute to he and his men. To this particular group of soldiers at least, "pay tribute" had meant surrendering most of the harvest to the troops, and much of the food the village had stored for the long winter ahead was forcibly taken. The villagers had been intimidated into giving up their sustenance, and many feared that they would not be able to feed their families during the coming months. Pleas to the soldiers for mercy fell on deaf ears, however, and many fell into a state of dread and helplessness.

She could remember her mother putting on a brave face, and assuring her and her sister that they would make it through the winter alive and well. "We'll just have to make do." She had said, her smile not masking the worry in her eyes. "We are a resourceful people, and we will find a way."

She had tried to believe her, but as the leaves began to fall and the rations became smaller and smaller, she could not suppress her doubts.

As bad as things had begun to look, however, she could never have anticipated what was to come next.

It had been a chilly autumn day, and she awoke to the sound of a loud and foreboding horn being blown at the edge of the village. She tried to ignore the now-familiar feeling of hunger in her stomach, and had dressed quickly to see what the commotion was about. Her mother and sister following close behind, she made her way to the town square where, it seemed, most of the village was slowly gathering. No one seemed to know what was going on, but the curiosity and worry was apparent on almost all of their faces.

After several tense minutes, one of the solders rode into the crowd, and unrolled the large piece of parchment in his hands.

"His most esteemed majesty Lord Daegan, King of the Lone Islands, has graced this humble village with his presence" He read, "All subjects, grateful as they must be for his rightful and just rule over these noble islands, must kneel in his majesties presence and demonstrate the respect fitting of his position."

Though none were grateful for their current predicament, they knew that they had little choice but to follow the orders. She could remember the burning hatred she had felt as she slowly knelt down on the rough stone road, waiting for the arrival of the "most esteemed" Lord.

He had entered to the sound of triumphant horns, adorned in furs and jewels which would have seemed excessive for even the High King of Narnia. Doubtlessly bought with the stolen money of villagers like themselves, she had thought bitterly.

He had instructed them all to rise, with a seemingly benevolent smile on his face, and wove his way through the crowd on a large brown steed. Occasionally, he would speak to one of the townspeople, instructing them to kiss his outstretched hand, or show their subservience with an extra bow. As he edged closer to where she and her family stood, she could remember staring down at the cobblestone road, and praying to Aslan that he would not ask her to show such signs of respect. She wasn't sure if she could do it without revealing her extreme dislike of the situation. He had no right to send his men there to disturb the peace and take their food, and he certainly had no rightful claims over the Islands he now claimed to rule.

"And who is this fair young maiden?" She had heard him ask in a sickeningly sweet voice. He was close now, and for a moment she thought he was speaking to her. She had jerked her head up and turned abruptly, only to see a sight which made her blood boil. He had not been addressing her but, much to her disgust, had reached out to stroke her sister's smooth dark hair. Daegan looked at the young girl with longing in his eyes and, if she had had any food in her stomach, she was certain that she would have been unable to keep it down.

"Maive." She heard her sister reply with a tremble. "My name is Maive."

"Lovely," Daegan had replied, his eyes still transfixed on the girl who had not yet seen her sixteenth summer. "Perhaps you would like the honour of visiting me and my men at our camp this evening."

He made it sound like a request, but all listening knew that Maive would have no choice if his mind became set on the idea.

She filled with panic as he watched him touch her sister. She had to do something, she couldn't let this continue…

"No!" The protest had not been hers but rather her mothers, who had a similar look of fear and dread on her face.

Lord Daegan had turned to the older woman, anger flashing in his eyes.

"My daughter will not come with you." She said, her quaking knees showing that her brave words were only a façade.

He simply stared at her for a moment, his gaze cold and calculating. "You have no say in the matter, woman." He stated, gesturing at one of his guards to come forward. "I can have who and what I wish."

Maive looked terrified, her eyes filling with tears as one of the guards seized her roughly and whispered something inaudible in her ear.

She could hear her mother begin to sob helplessly as another guard came forth to retrain her from moving towards her youngest daughter.

"No, please!" The older daughter protested, unable to standby and watch those dearest to her suffer. "Let her be." She paused, straightening her shoulders and holding up her head defiantly. "Take me. You can have me instead."

"Adara, no!" Her mother cried, helplessly retrained by the burly solder. "Leave my girls. Please, leave my girls."

Other villagers had begun to edge towards the scene, but none knew what they could do to help. They had no weapons, and were not trained fighters. Any who tried to protest the apprehension of the family would undoubtedly be crushed in seconds.

Daegan had simply smiled, taking some sort of sick pleasure from the suffering he had inflicted. Reaching down, he had brushed her cheek with a rough hand and his sour breath swept across the side of her neck. "Not nearly as beautiful as the young one." He muttered, clearly not satisfied with the proposed trade "But perhaps some of my men will enjoy your company."

Adara had felt one of the guards restrain her and Daegan gestured for his men to follow him, with both sisters in tow. She felt numb as she was marched out of the village and towards the camp. She could hear her sister's sobs and, as she looked back, she could see that one of the guards had flung their mother roughly against the stone road where she lay immobile, surrounded by sympathetic villagers. She could only hope that she was not too badly injured.

The next few days had felt like months. She could hear her sisters' cries at night, but was unable to help her. They were chained, in separate tents, close enough to hear each others anguish, but too far apart to offer any comfort.

She did not see Daegan for several days, but she could hear when he went to her sister. She supposed that his exaggerated level of noise was intended to make her suffer, and she had no choice but to listen to his joyous moans and her sister's painful cries throughout the long dark nights. It made her sick.

As promised, she was visited as well, by several of the soldiers. She refused to show her pain, however, and simply lay emotionless as they had their way. It was easier that way, and she did not want them to see how helpless she felt.

She still did not know how long she had been chained in that dreadful tent, but after what felt like ages (but was probably only a week or two), Lord Daegan came to call.

At first she thought (and hoped) that he had tired of her sister and was ready to inflict his torture on her instead. But, she soon realized, he had come with a very different purpose.

"I have a proposition for you, girl." He had said, his ruby encrusted crown glinting in the dim moonlight. "As you are well aware, I have taken much pleasure in my time with your dear young sister and, although I wish our time together could continue, I am willing to release the girl." He paused. "If you do something for me first."

Adara, who had been trying very hard not to show any emotion, had faltered as he offered her a glimmer of hope.

He smiled his horrible, sour smile. "I see that this has peaked your interest, girl." He said, with a hollow laugh.

She tried to regain her composure. "What must I do?" She asked, her tone even and her eyes locked on his.

Daegan paused for another moment, and reached out to smooth her tousled locks. "You may not have the same beauty your sister possesses." He began. "But I think you will do well enough with the task at hand."

Silence fell over the tent. Again, she began to think that he was ready to take her in exchange for Maive, but this was not what he had in mind.

"I will release you, girl." He continued, his eyes shimmering with anticipation. "And outfit you with clothing befitting of a lady."

She said nothing.

"My ambition to take the Islands has been met," Daegan stated. "But my ambition does not stop here; this is only the beginning."

She stared up at him, hoping that she did not look worried or intrigued by this declaration, and wondering why he felt the sudden need to share his plans with a peasant girl. What did she have to do with his construction of a horrible empire?

"If I stop now, there is no doubt that the other Kingdoms will, in time, move against me." He paused. "Unless I acquire a position of even more power." He paused again and flashed her another sickening grin. "Narnia will fall next," he declared. "And you will set everything in motion."

Adara froze, unsure of what to make of this new information. Surely he was out of his mind. Overthrowing governors and declaring oneself the head of the Lone Islands was one thing, but to take Narnia was quite another. It was impossible, especially since the arrival of the Four. No deranged Lord could achieve this, not even one as cruel and ruthless as Daegan.

He smirked, and she realized that she had once again let down her stoic façade. "Do not doubt my skills, young one. I have had spies in the Narnian court for years, and those followers of the White Witch who have been driven into hiding are being rallied as we speak to help put a more appropriate ruler in Cair Paravel."

"Then why do you need me?" She spat, unable to hide her anger any longer. "Why can't you let my village be and set about this conquest far from here? We have given you no reason to stay and torment us."

The smirk remained plastered on his face. "I have been enjoying my time in this village, young one." He stated. "And I see it is a good resting place before I do move onto better things. I never intended to stay this long, but your sister has proved to be a most satisfying conquest in her own right. You should know by now that I do enjoy a good conquest."

Adara's eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.

"I have decided to stay here until the next phase of the plan has been set in motion and that, my dear, is where you come in." He paused, and his smirk turned into a twisted grin. "You will ride to Cair Paravel and gain admittance to the castle, as a noble guest. You will do all that you can to gain the friendship and trust of the Royal Four and, as soon as the opportunity presents itself, youwill assassinate the High King, throwing the kingdom into chaos and making way for my armies to seize the castle."

She froze.

Surely he wasn't serious. Killing the High King was the highest of treasons, there was no way she would ever do such a thing.

"No." She spat, no longer caring about concealing her emotions. "I cannot. I will not."

"You can, and will." Daegan hissed, leaning towards her. "You will be released to carry out this task, but if you do not return to me by winters end with news of the High Kings death, I will take out my anger and disappointment on your village." He paused. "And your family."

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she thought about the scenario. It was a harsh ultimatum indeed. Kill the king, the man who had brought such peace and hope to his people, or sacrifice her entire village and allow her mother and sister to fall prey to Daegan and his men, indefinitely.

Her instinct told her to refuse the offer outright. That would be the noble thing to do. To tell him that she would rather die them carry out this grim task- but another part of her knew that he would simply find some other poor soul to do his bidding, and make her watch as everything she knew and loved was obliterated.

She wondered, for a moment, why she should care about the fate of the High King at all. Granted, Narnia had (before Daegan at least) had some over lordship over the Islands, but she did not know this man, and did not see why his life should be valued over those of her family and village by virtue of his title alone. She tired to shake the thought from her mind, knowing it was treason to even let such doubts pass through her, but it still gnawed on the edge of her consciousness.

"What is your decision, young one." Daegan asked, his breath brushing against her neck as it had that first horrible day he had appeared. "I have little patience and am happy to take my vengeance on these people, and your lovely sister, should you refuse me.

She could feel herself shaking, and it seemed as if the entire would was crashing down. Why her? Why this? She could see no reason why she should be given such a torturous choice.

The great Aslan clearly had little care for her and her insignificant village, she thought bitterly.

"Yes." She choked, feeling as if she was no longer attached to her frail body. "I will go."

Daegan smiled. "Good." He stated simply, his cape swinging behind him as he moved towards the tent door. "Remember the price of failure."

His final words rang in her ears for the rest of that sleepless night.

She had left the next morning at sunrise, without being permitted to bid her mother or sister farewell. She still did not know how her injured mother was faring after that horrible day in the town square, and could only hope that the woman was recovering with the help of their friends and neighbours.

After a boat ride to the mainland, she had set off through the thick forests towards Cair Paravel, stopping each evening for a short rest and living off of the small rations Daegan had provided. She had not seen him after their last conversation, but one of his guards had provided her with supplies and instructions on the morning of her departure, giving her forged documentation to show that she a Doorn noblewoman and reminding her that Daegan's Narnian spies would be sending reports of her progress to the Lord.

Giving her horse another light pat as they edged ever closer to their destination, Adara tried not to dwell on the horrors of the past few months or the task ahead. She tried to focus instead on her mother and sister and think about the happiness they could share again if she were successful in her mission. She would give almost anything to hear Maive's light-hearted laugh again, though she feared that recent experiences may have extinguished it forever.

Painfully aware of the dagger strapped to her side, she pushed ahead, feeling as numb as she had since Daegan's men had seized her.

She wanted it all to be over.

She wanted to return home, and return to the simple things that she had never before appreciated.

She wanted her family and village safe and happy again.

Unfortunately, all that she wished could only be realized if she was able carry out Daegan's will.

She had to kill High King Peter.

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A/N Review if you think I should continue.


	2. Not so Magnificent

He closed the large door of the meeting chamber behind him as he left, not caring that the noise he created had likely disturbed most inhabitants of the castle.

It was unusual for him to loose his calm like this, but the past few weeks had put a strain on his usually impressive patience.

Everything, it suddenly seemed, was about to come tumbling down; the giants were causing disturbances (yet again), remnants of the Witches' army had been spotted on the eastern border, the Calormene ambassador had been hinting of his kingdom's hostility, and a rumour that the Lone Islands were facing a military coup had reached the Cair earlier that evening. Something, clearly, had to be done to remedy all of these problems and he was disturbed by the fact that none of his advisors could do anything but bicker over small details. He had had enough of it and, for tonight at least, he needed to escape. He needed to clear his head, and to assess the situation in peace, well away from the political squabbles of the meeting room.

"Peter!" A familiar voice behind him called.

He did not slow his footsteps, and did not acknowledge his brother as he approached.

"Come on Peter," Edmund urged, for once the calm and collected one of the pair, "I know it's a pain, but don't you think we should at least get through tonight's meeting? Everyone is gathered, and it seems a shame to dismiss them."

Peter slowed for a second, and stared down at the smooth marble floor of the front entance way. He was not annoyed with Edmund, one of the few people at the meeting who had not resorted to childish quarrelling that evening, and he did not wish to take out his irritation on an undeserving target. Drawing a deep breath, he sighed and turned to face his younger brother.

"You make a good point, Ed." He began, "But I do think dismissing everyone is the best thing we can do at the moment. It is apparent that no one is willing to listen to the opinions of others, and until everyone is able to consider all of our options, without pointless arguing, I see no reason to keep the meeting in session." Peter paused for a moment, trying not to glance back at the meeting room door or think about the unpleasantness of the evening. "I need to clear my head, or I fear I will make a decision or statement I will later regret. Here-" he pulled his crown off of his head and passed it to his brother. "Take this, I am going for a ride."

Edmund, held the golden crown at his side, his dark eyes full of concern for his older brother. "Would you like company?" He asked, hoping that he could be of some further comfort.

Peter gave him a small smile. "Not tonight." He replied quietly, "I think it is best if I go alone."

Edmund looked as if he wanted to say more, but then thought better of it. He knew his brother well, and he knew that when Peter was in an uncharacteristic mood such as this, it was best not to push things further. Having witnessed the disastrous meeting himself, he could understand Peter's current frustrations and was fighting back similar emotions himself.

"Dismiss the meeting and get some rest." Peter continued, giving the younger man a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Tell them that we will resume tomorrow after breakfast, and make it clear that I expect everyone to be in a much more productive mood after a good nights rest."

Edmund nodded and turned back towards the meeting room as Peter took a few more steps towards the front entrance and threw on the plain brown riding cloak which had been left nearby.

"Good night Peter." The younger king called, turning back to see his brother yank open the door with more force then was necessary. "Stay safe."

Peter gave him the warm smile he reserved exclusively for his siblings. "Good night Ed." He replied. "And thanks."

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After making his way down to the stables, enjoying the cool fresh autumn air as he went, Peter had selected one of his favourite horses (a noble white steed named Lugh) and set off through the quickly darkening forest.

He knew it was somewhat foolish of him to go out riding alone at night. Although Narnia had come a long way since he and his siblings had been crowned at Cair Paravel, there were still creatures lurking in these woods which wished to see them deposed. They had received several troubling reports that the Witch's followers had been unusually active in recent months, and Peter was well aware that this was a significant cause for concern. At the current moment, however, the thought of confronting hostile hags and minotaurs was much more appealing then the thought of facing his royal generals and advisors.

Not that they were all bad, of course. He knew that they meant well, and he was certain that they all cared for Narnia just as much as he and his siblings, but as the threats and problems facing the kingdom became increasingly complicated, what had once been minor policy disagreements and personality clashes suddenly became magnified. Everyone seemed to disagree about everything, and Peter was unable to come to come to any sort of consensus or develop a productive course of action in such a hostile atmosphere.

Tonight's meeting had nearly pushed him to the breaking point and, although he knew that many would be annoyed by his sudden exit, he knew it was better then sticking around and completely loosing his composure.

Earning the trust and respect of the court had not been as easy as he had initially hoped, and now that he had gained it he did not want to let it go.

True, the coronation had been a joyous event, and all present had been humbled and awed by Aslan's presence. But once the Great Lion had left, and the festivities had died down, Peter and his siblings had quickly found that the day to day running of the court and country, even with the White Witch gone, was not an easy or carefree endeavour.

At just fifteen, Peter had found himself to be not only the head of his family, but also High King of a country in need of much repair after one hundred years of despotic rule. Many had quietly questioned his capabilities in the early years of their rule, and Peter was well aware that several had their doubts about this young boy's capacity to be the High King they so desperately needed.

Truth be told, he had similar doubts about himself,

He could remember many sleepless nights, lying in his grand bed and wondering why in the name of Aslan he had been selected for this seemingly impossible task. He was just a boy, and nothing could have prepared him for such an important responsibility.

But, despite his worries and fatigue, he had pulled himself out of bed bright and early every morning and carried out his wide array of duties to the best of his ability.

Meetings with advisors, generals….receiving foreign ambassadors and Kings…overseeing all changes to the laws and legislation of the country…leading his army into battle…listening to the grievances of his citizens…

The list went on, and Peter did all he could not to feel overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. He had his siblings to help of course, and as they grew and took on more duties things did become easier; be he was still the High King, and the final word often fell to him, whether he liked it or not.

Over time, he had managed to prove himself to the vast majority of Narnians, but he knew that it was important that he, still only twenty and barely a grown man, continue to conduct himself with the strength and dignity they expected.

That was why he did not feel that he could stay in the meeting that night. Although, in his opinion, some of the fighting and insults being hurled around the room by various dignitaries were childish, he knew that if _he_ gave into his own desire to partake in such bickering, the whispers that the High King was a frivolous boy incapable of leading his people would begin again.

He could not afford to let that happen. Especially not now, with all of the troubling news which had been arriving at the castle. The giants, the Witch's followers, the Calormenes, the rumours from the Lone Islands…all were causing him significant grief, and casting doubt on his maturity and rule was the last thing he needed.

The price of failure was too great to jeopardize everything with a childish outburst.

"Come, Lugh." Peter said quietly, giving his horse an encouraging pat. "Let's head north a bit. Perhaps to the river."

The horse, which was not of the talking variety, neighed approvingly and veered to the left. They trotted in silence for several minutes, and Peter focused on nothing but the sound of fallen leaves crunching under Lugh's hooves.

It was times like these that he wished things were simpler, as they had been in Spare Oom. As the weeks and months passed, it was becoming harder and harder to remember that place, but sometimes he could picture past moments with his siblings, laughing in the rain or enjoying a stolen biscuit from the kitchen. He treasured such memories, and in times of particular stress would always try to recall how carefree and happy he had been.

Not that he was unhappy now, but his happiness had been of a different sort then.

A rustling noise behind him sapped him out of his daze, ad he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword in readiness.

"Who goes there?" He asked, his voice firm. He decided against declaring that he was the High King- if he had come across a hostile band of rebels, there was always a chance that they would not attack if they did not recognize him.

There was more rustling, and Peter was about to call out again when the source of the noise came into view.

It was a woman, dressed in a simple yet elegant manner, riding atop a strong brown horse. She looked tired and dishevelled, but her overall appearance was not displeasing.

"Sorry if I startled you." She stated, trotting closer to Peter. "I am attempting to get to Cair Paravel and seem to have fallen off the path."

Peter smiled, happy for the distraction. Although he had hoped to sit alone near the river for awhile, helping her would give him a reason to push thoughts of the unpleasant meeting to the back of his mind, at least for awhile. "I live at the Cair." He replied, "And I am happy to show you the shortest route back, if you like. The woods aren't safe for a lady to brave alone at night."

She gave him a look which he was unable to interpret, but did not reply.

Peter held out his hand "I am," he hesitated, for some inexplicable reason "John." He said, surprising himself with the sudden urge to lie about his identity. "It is a pleasure to meet you." He had had enough of being kingly that night, and the prospect of being someone else was suddenly appealing. Without his crown or regular riding cloak, he could easily pass for a regular man.

Sometimes, that was all he wanted to be.

She did not take his hand, but simply looked at it with confusion before nodding. "I am Lady Adara, of Doorn." she replied "Your assistance is appreciated, John."

He returned her nod and turned his horse back towards the castle. There was something about her tone, and her eyes, which unsettled him. He knew that she had given him little reason to judge her, and he hesitated to reach any sort of conclusion, but she seemed…withdrawn. Her eyes were somehow lifeless and, despite the pleasantness of her voice, her words filled him with a sense of hollowness.

It was as if she wasn't really there, not in spirit at least.

Intrigued, he turned to see her following behind him, her eyes fixed dully on the Cair. The silence was stifling, and he pulled back a bit to ride beside her and make conversation.

"What brings you to Narnia?" He asked, hoping that it did not seem as if he was prying.

"My father wants me to visit Cair Paravel and learn what I can about the country." She stated, her eyes fixed ahead and her tone formal. "He has heard of the Royal Four's hospitality and thinks I will enjoy it here."

Peter nodded, slightly pleased to hear that nobles far and wide spoke well of their hospitality (Susan was primarily to thank for that), and wondering if he should push it further. "And what about you?" He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Do you think you will enjoy it here?"

She hesitated, displaying a hint of emotion for the first time since they had met. "No." Adara replied softly. "I wish to be at home."

More silence passed between them, and Peter found himself unsure what to say next. It was rare to have such and unenthusiastic visitor, and he wondered if there was more behind her dreary mood then she let on.

He wasn't exactly sure what inspired him to say it, but he seemed to be particularly daring and unrestrained that night. "Does your father intend for you to gain the attention of one of the kings?" he asked, internally scolding himself for being so bold. He was curious, however, and it was not unusual for ambitious young ladies to arrive at the Cair hoping to gain his, or Edmund's, affections.

It was, it seemed, one of the many perils of the job.

"No." She replied in the same even tone. "I do not particularly care to meet the Kings."

After another pause, she sighed and averted her gaze back down to her horse's mane. "I am sorry." She said quietly, interpreting his silence as disgust. "You must think me a horrible companion. I did not mean to disrespect your rulers."

Peter could not hold back a smirk, finding their conversation to be a completely bizarre experience. He could not resist continuing his game, though a part of him felt terrible for deceiving this unsuspecting young woman.

"I take no offence." He stated, guiltily avoiding her eyes. "Though I am curious, what do they say about the Royal Four in Doorn?" He wondered if her thoughts on the royal family were typical in her region.

The woman sighed, her eyes flickering towards the castle again. "One mostly hears praise." She began. Peter was happy to hear her formality beginning to falter somewhat.

"Queen Lucy, they say, is a young, but a caring girl who is always willing to help all of Narnia's creatures."

Peter gave a slight nod, thinking that to be a pleasant and accurate description of his sister.

"King Edmund is devoted and fair." She continued, as if reciting something she had heard countless times. "He is a good swordsman and a loyal knight. Queen Susan is beautiful." Adara went on, "And kind. Her parties, it is believed, are the most elegant and spectacular in Narnia's history."

The King smiled again. Susan would be pleased to hear that her balls were famous as far away as Doorn.

"I used to dream about attending one." Adara stated, her eyes tightly closed, as if in the midst of recalling a painful memory. "My sister and I used to talk about grand they must be, we…" She trailed off, and Peter noticed her discreetly drawing a few deep breaths to steady herself.

Her behaviour was rather odd, he thought, though he was glad to see her initial formality fading away.

"And then there is King Peter." She began again, her voice stronger then before.

Peter felt pangs of both guilt and curiosity.

"They say that he is noble, and possesses the grace and strength that a High King should. He is said to care deeply about his people, and be a fearless leader in times of battle. His exploits against the White Witch are already legendary." She paused, and the faintest of smiles flittered across her face for the first time that night. "The village girls also like to say that he is extremely handsome, though none have ever seen him."

Despite himself, Peter let out a short laugh, amused by her very generous (and, in his opinion, very exaggerated) description of him.

"What?" She asked, misinterpreting his response. "Is this not true? Is the High King not what they say he is?" He noted, with yet more curiosity, the tone of hope in her voice.

"I think you will have to judge that for yourself." He replied carefully. "But in my own experience, I would have to say that he is not nearly as glorious as some might think."

She seemed oddly pleased by this news, and Peter found himself more and more perplexed. She was a strange woman indeed.

"Are you close to him?" She asked, her voice quiet once again.

Peter suppressed a smile. "You could say that." he said before adding, "The castle approaches."

He was happy to change the subject. He should not have lied, and he should not have asked what he did, but he had to admit that it was one of the most amusing conversations he had had in quite some time. Certainly a good distraction from the meeting.

"You can tether your horse to the front gate and I will see to it that someone takes him safely to the stables tonight." He paused. "Follow me inside, and we can get you a room to stay in during your visit."

She gave him a perplexed look, but said nothing.

Peter jumped off of his horse and quickly moved towards Adara to help her dismount. She slid off of the saddle before he could reach her, however, and recoiled when he offered to help her with her bags, as if afraid of his touch. Despite their eventually cordial conversation, it appeared that she wanted to keep her distance.

He gave her a warm smile and helped tether the horses before leading her up the walkway to the front entrance in silence. The guards nodded and moved aside as they approached, and he could almost sense his companion's confusion.

He would have to come clean, and hope that she would forgive him for his foolish deception. Perhaps his attempt to avoid looking childish that evening had failed after all.

As they pushed through the front doors, he was surprised to see Edmund (who had clearly decided not to go to bed) and Oreius talking quietly a few metres away. They looked up as he entered, Edmund giving him a slight nod and Oreius bending in a deep bow (no matter how many times he told his trusted general that formalities were not necessary, he persisted in such behaviour).

"Still awake I see, Ed." Peter said, throwing his cloak back on a nearby hook.

Edmund gave him a small smile. "Do you honestly think I can get any rest when I know you're out there riding around in the dark, and possibly hostile, woods? Honestly Peter, you're not the only one prone to worrying about his siblings."

Peter avoided his gaze, feeling guilty for the umpteenth time that night.

"Sorry, Ed. I know I was being a bit…irrational."

The younger king nodded in agreement before noticing the fourth, and unknown, person in the room. Raising a dark eyebrow, he nodded in her direction and shot his brother a questioning look. "I see you have not returned alone."

Peter was confused for moment before remembering that Adara had indeed been following him as he entered the castle. Seeing his brother and Oreius had temporarily distracted him from the strange woman.

"Ah, yes, of course." He began, turning to her with a smile. "Terribly rude of me not to introduce you."

As expected, there was a look of shock and confusion on her face as she stared between the two kings and the centaur. The ruse was up.

Peter hesitated, his guilt returning. "I suppose I should begin with myself…properly." He began quietly. "I am-"

"Peter." She stuttered her brown eyes wide and her voice once again cold and distant. "You're High King Peter."

Peter nodded, and Edmund and Oreius looked perplexed by this strange exchange.

"I am afraid so," He said, with a slight smile, hoping that she would not think him too horrible for his earlier deception. "And this is my brother, King Edmund, and our trusted general, Oreius. This," Peter continued, turning to the other men in the room, "Is Lady Adara of Doorn, she has come to stay with us at the Cair for a few weeks."

The other two bowed, but Adara remained frozen, her eyes transfixed on Peter.

He shifted uncomfortably under her penetrating gaze, but supposed that he deserved these moments of awkwardness for what he had done.

"I do hope you can forgive me, milady." He said, with a slight bow.

A young faun scuttled down the hallway, stopping abruptly as Peter raised his hand in his direction.

"Good evening, Mordus." Peter said, with a nod towards the faun. "If you are not otherwise engaged, would you please escort Lady Adara to one of the guest rooms in the northern wing. I trust that she is tired after her journey and would appreciate the rest."

He turned his attention to her as the faun came towards them and picked up her two small bags. "Let Mordus know if you are hungry and he can have someone fetch you something from the kitchens." He gave her another slight bow, as the stunned woman was led away by the faun. "Good night, milady, it was a pleasure to ride with you."

She did not reply, and Peter watched with a mixture of amusement and guilt as she disappeared around the corner.

He looked up to see Edmund shaking his head, confusion evident in his brown eyes. "I am not even going to ask." He muttered.

XXXXXXXXXXX

_A/N Let me know how it was. Good? Okay? Horrible? Should I continue? _

_This is my first attempt to work with these characters, and hope they are alright so far. I love Peter, but I don't want to make him excessively pure and noble, nor to do I want to stray from the character and make him un-likable. Same with Edmund. It is hard to find a balance. Susan and Lucy should appear soon. _


	3. Another Side

Although her room was elegant and her bed was comfortable, Adara did not sleep well that night.

She had only been in Cair Paravel for a few hours, and she had already managed to mess things up.

Royally.

Her tired body was still reeling from the shock of finding out that the seemingly average man she had come across in the woods was, in fact, the High King. She tossed and turned, her heart beating rapidly and her stomach churning, as she thought about what had transpired that evening.

She had heard a noise and had reluctantly approached the man in the woods (looking back, it did seem rather foolish of her…though, she supposed, her dreadful life had such little value at this point that she had, perhaps subconsciously, hoped to meet a terrible end before she could carry out what she had come to do). The man had seemed nice enough, the sort of pleasant fellow that she might have shown some interest in if she had not had more pressing things on her mind, and he had introduced himself simply as "John." She had no reason to question him on this and, since he said that he worked at the castle (something that, even in retrospect, was not a lie) she followed him towards the Cair.

At first, she hoped he would not attempt to strike up a conversation, but as they rode she found herself increasingly tempted to speak; it felt like ages since she had had a human companion, and talking felt good after such a long and silent journey. A part of her would have loved to tell him the whole wretched story then and there, and ask him to help her find some way to save her village without sacrificing the High King. But, she reminded herself, she could not breakdown in front of this stranger, for the sake of her mission, and her family. For all she knew, he was one of the spies Daegan had spoken of, and doing that could put everything in danger.

She could not afford such a foolish mistake.

Their conversation had been pleasant enough, though speaking about Queen Susan's balls had brought up memories of Maive which now gave her much pain. As she choked back her tears, she made a silent vow that they would one day attend a grand party together, once Daegon and his men had left their village in peace. That happy thought had allowed her to continue…though, looking back, she wished that she hadn't.

She had gone on to talk about the High King, describing the praises of the villagers and even the embarrassing swooning of many local girls. His laugh at this has taken her aback, and for a moment she hoped that his amusement indicated that the seemingly flawless man she had been sent to kill was not the great King everyone claimed he was. The situation would, admittedly, be easier of King Peter was said to be a selfish and much hated despot. She still loathed the prospect of killing anyone, but assassinating a tyrant was better then assassinating a well loved and benevolent king.

He had told her that the king was not quite as glorious as his reputation had led her to believe, but did not condemn him as she had hoped he would.

They were nearing the castle at that point and, with a new air of authority in his voice, he had informed her that he would make sure that her horse was well cared for. At first, she had assumed that he was one for the stable boys, but he had then stated that he would ensure that a room was readied for her was well. She had wondered what gave such say over these matters.

Seeming to be quite the gentlemen, he had come over to help her dismount, but she rushed off of her horse and instinctively recoiled. Irrational as it may have seemed, her experience in Daegan's camp had made her wary of all men, even ones that had done her no harm. John had seemed decent, but the thought of his touch, even for a second, made her insides churn.

He had smiled graciously, and led her towards the castle without comment. She wondered, as she followed a few feet behind, how he had come to live here and what his connection was to the Royal Four. The closer they got to Cair Paravel, the more he carried himself like a man of some nobility; perhaps he was a lord on one of the Kings' councils, or a foreign dignitary of some kind…

Not once did the actual truth cross her mind.

The guards gave him small bows as he passed (odd, she had thought) and he pushed open the large oak doors, proceeding into the castle's entranceway. Two other figures were standing near by, a centaur and a young dark haired man whose silver crown indicated his position. For a moment, she focused only on the elegance of the stunning entrance way- the smooth marble floors, rich tapestries, and elaborate golden candlesticks were far more beautiful then anything she had seen during her life in Doorn. If she had been there for any other reason, she would have been thrilled by the sight of it all, but as it was, Adara would have traded all of the elegance of the Cair for a simple night at home with Maive and her mother in their humble cottage.

Frivolous pleasures lost all meaning when more important things were at stake, she had mused.

The conversation taking place before her, however, pushed all other thoughts from her mind.

Her companion had addressed the king in front of them as simply "Ed," not your majesty or your highness…and, seconds later, King Edmund had called "John" Peter.

The name had rung loudly in her ears, and everything else seemed to stop.

_Peter. _

She had been thankful that she had not stepped further into the hall as the cold stone wall behind her was now the only thing keeping her upright.

_He _was Peter.

The man who had found her in the woods and tried so hard to make pleasant conversation with her was the _High King_.

And, even worse_, he_ was the target.

Her dagger seemed to brush harshly against her side, a brutal reminder, as she swayed slightly, still trying to absorb the unexpected news.

Why had he been so kind to her? So understanding?

If only he knew…

She had looked up to see his earnest blue eyes watching her, and the dread she had felt since her mission began became almost unbearable.

"Peter." She had stuttered, cutting him off. "You're High King Peter."

He confirmed her statement and apologized for his deception, something which only made her feel worse. Adara had felt nothing but hatred him for him at that moment; everything was falling apart, and she had only just arrived. She hated him for making matters even more complicated then they already were.

This was not what she had planned.

She had been going through possible scenarios ever since Daegan had assigned her this unfortunate task; she knew that she would have to talk to the High King at some point, or at least follow him to some secluded corner of the castle before she could complete what she had come to do. But she had not wanted to get to know him in any way- she had not been lying when she told "John" that she had no interest in meeting the kings. She had decided, during one of her many sleepless nights on the way to Cair Paravel, that it would be best to speak to the King and his family as little as possible; getting to know them, or worse, like them, would make things infinitely harder. She had wanted the High King to remain a cold and distant figure in her mind, and she knew that it would best if she formed no attachment or sympathy for him.

But it was too late to change things now. She had met Peter, talked to him, and decided that he was a decent man before realizing that he was the one she had been sent to kill.

If he hadn't lied about his identity, she thought bitterly, she could have completed her mission in the secluded forest and returned to Doorn as swiftly as possible. They never would have conversed, and she could have been the cold and heartless killer she knew she had to be. His childish game, and her own stupidity had cost her the perfect opportunity, and her family and village would now suffer longer for her mistake.

She had allowed herself to be led out of the hall by a young faun, her mind millions of miles away from her body, which seemed to be moving on its own accord. She politely declined the offer of food, and soon found herself alone in the elegant, dark bedroom she now occupied.

Hastily changing into her sleeping clothes, she had sprawled out on the comfortable bed, her mind spinning and her body sore from the journey. Despite her fatigue, she knew that sleep would not come easily.

As she stared up at the dark ceiling, she could not push the image of his honest blue eyes from her mind. He may have been the High King, but he was still young, and he was full of a youthful innocence which somehow reminded her of her sister. His life was, undoubtedly, one full of burdens and responsibilities; he had seen horrible battles and made decisions no man his age should have to make- and yet, beneath it all, there was still a glimmer of childhood and laughter.

It pained her to think that she would have to bring that to an end.

She was no better then Daegan…

As her mind drifted back to the exchange between the two brothers in the entrance way, the knot in her stomach tightened again. Anyone who was in their presence for more then a moment could sense the deep affection between them, and she had taken note of the relief in Edmund's face as Peter stood before him, safe and sound.

She understood the sort of bond they surely had, and for a fleeting moment she thought that Peter might even understand and sympathize with her terrible position. What would _he_ do, she wondered, if Edmund, Lucy or Susan had been enslaved by a horrible beast of a man? Would he do anything, no matter how dreadful, to keep them safe, or would he put others above his own family and own happiness and do what was best for the greater good. Perhaps he would understand why she was willing to come here with such an appalling aim.

Adara scoffed at her ridiculous musings and continued to stare up at the ceiling. It was absurd to think that the High King could possibly sympathize with his potential killer- a woman who was too weak to do anything but follow the will of a the man who had tormented her village. She was no longer chained to the floor of that wretched tent, but she still felt the pressure of the chains around her and she knew that she was still a prisoner.

She doubted that she could every really escape.

Letting out a shaky sigh, she wondered what would happen if she went to the Kings and Queens for help; perhaps they could forgive her for arriving with this grim goal, and would be able to gather the forces necessary to free her island. It was a tempting prospect, but the thought of the Daegan's spies in the Narnian court discouraged her from pursuing it. If he was true to his word, the moment the news of an attack spread through the court, the word would reach him and her family and village would feel his vengeance. She would be safe and sound in Cair Paravel, and Peter would be spared, but everything she held dear would vanish in an instant.

"_Remember the price of failure."_

Daegan's final words echoed in her mind, and the thought of Maive's tortured screams snapped her back to reality. She stared up at the ceiling, allowing the now-familiar numbness to overcome her.

Numb.

She had to stay numb.

It was the only way.

XXXXXXXX

_A/N A bit shorter, but not so bad I hope. Please do tell me what you think- I am dying for feedback, good or bad. This is a bit of an experiment for me, and I would love to know if I am doing alright. Cheers! _

_Much Peter to come if I continue. _


	4. A Quiet Morning

"Morning, Ed." Peter said with a smile as his brother approached the royal table at the head of the dining hall. Edmund was, as usual, the last sibling to arrive for breakfast- the younger king's dislike of early mornings was no secret to members of the court and the duty of waking up King Edmund was a task that few residents of Cair Paravel relished.

Edmund mumbled something unintelligible in response as he took his regular seat beside Susan and Peter and began to devour the sausage and eggs placed before him in a most un-kingly manner.

"Slow down Ed." Lucy chuckled as she delicately placed down her own fork. "It isn't a race."

The young king shrugged, and his siblings (all of whom were very close to finishing up their own meals) could only watch as he continued his near frantic eating.

"Honestly, Edmund." Susan muttered, shaking her head in a mixture of amusement and disgust. "Sometimes I wonder about you…"

When he finally came up for air, he did not acknowledge his sisters' comments (manners were of no concern to him before nine am, as he had explained to them on several occasions) and instead looked towards his older brother. "How long until the meeting?" He asked.

Peter frowned at the thought, not happy about the prospect of several more hours in the crowded meeting room with his discontent advisors. He felt more rested and patient then had had last night, but there were several other things he would rather do with his time. Scrubbing the floor of the great hall with a toothbrush would probably be a more productive and less frustrating use of his day, he thought bitterly, if last nights meeting was any indication of what lay ahead.

"About half an hour." He replied, not bothering to hide his distaste. The hall was still fairly quiet, and he saw no need to keep up a stoic façade with only his siblings and a few close friends near by. He enjoyed these quiet moments, when he could simply be Peter.

"How was last night?" Lucy asked, after finishing up the quiet conversation she had been having with Tumnus at the end of the table (the faun had been warmly welcomed at the high table ever since the coronation) "Did the meeting go well?" She had clearly not picked up on her brother's tone.

Edmund snorted as he placed down his tea cup, and Peter shook his head.

"You might not want to bring that up, Lu." Edmund said, turning to his now confused sister. "It was…stressful, to say the least. We didn't make much progress."

Peter looked darkly down at the table, unable to push the thought of last night out of his mind. So help him Aslan, if today did not go any better he was not sure what he would do.

"Though things did get interesting afterwards." Edmund continued, chancing a glance at his brother. "I _am_ curious to hear a bit more about what happened during your ride." He paused, a smirk flickering across his face. "Only you could go out for a midnight ride and return with a damsel in distress, Pete."

Lucy's eyes widened, Tumnus looked over with interest, and Susan raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Peter. He shifted uncomfortably under their gazes, and silently cursed Edmund for bringing it up. He did not particularly want to share the story of his childish deception.

"It was nothing terribly exciting, and she was not a damsel in distress." He muttered, his eyes fixed on his empty plate. "I went out for a ride to clear my head and ran into a woman who had fallen off the path on the way to the castle. I escorted her back and had Mordus fix her a room. Like I said, not much of a story."

He hoped Edmund would drop it but, as usual, his younger brother seemed to be enjoying his obvious discomfort. Annoying his older siblings was part of his younger bothers job description, it often appeared.

"There must be more to it then that." Edmund pushed. "I want to know why she looked so shocked when I called you Peter. And why you said that it was time to introduce yourself properly. What did you tell her when you were riding?"

Peter sighed, figuring it was best to just get it over with. The curious looks on everyone else's faces would not go away until he explained. "Fine," He began, shooting Edmund what he hoped was an intimidating glare. "I may not have been entirely truthful when I introduced myself. I am not sure why, but I didn't feel like telling her who I was and pretended to be an average resident of the castle." He hated the disapproving look on Susan's face as he spoke. "We talked a bit, and I could not resist asking her what she thought about us…"

Susan gave him a stern look. "Peter, how perfectly horrid of you to trick someone like that. I do hope you apologised. Imagine what she'll tell people when she returns home."

"Perhaps you'll earn a new nickname." Edmund mused with a grin. "King Peter the Liar."

Peter glared. "I suppose I won't tell you what she said about you then." He replied, occupying himself by pouring another cup of tea. They fell silent and allowed him to carry on- clearly, they were just as curious as he had been last night. Living at the Cair was a bit like living in a bubble at times, and all were eager to know how their reign was perceived outside of the court, vain though it may have been.

Giving a satisfied nod, he continued. "She did not seem enthusiastic about her visit, but did say that the villagers in her region think highly of us. She said that her people think you are kind and caring, Lu." He said, addressing his youngest sibling. "Which I felt to be very accurate."

Lucy smiled.

"As for you, Ed." He continued. "People seem to think you are a brave and loyal knight- though where they got such an idea I am not sure." His tone was playful now, and Edmund gave him a look of mock annoyance.

"They say Susan is beautiful," he continued, noting the slight blush on his sister's face. "And you will be happy to know that your parties are already legendary."

Susan looked pleased and Peter gave her a small smile.

"And what about you, Peter?" Edmund asked, not yet satisfied. "Let me guess, she said that her people think you are the noblest and handsomest King to ever reign over Narnia."

Peter felt his cheeks heating up and he looked back down at his plate. Although his voice was full of sarcasm, Edmund's guess was not too far off. "Something like that." He muttered, not wanting to really discuss it. Although he thought that the admiration was fitting for his siblings, the thought of people far and wide singing his praises made him uncomfortable. If only they knew how uncertain and under qualified he really was…if the people could read his mind they would have very different things to say about him.

"Oh no." Lucy declared, worry suddenly etched across her young face. "This mystery woman isn't here to court you or Ed, is she Peter? I do hate when ladies show up with such shallow intentions."

Peter shook his head. "No, I think we are both safe this time." He assured her, looking thoughtful for a moment. "She said she had no desire to meet us. Which did, frankly, strike me as a bit odd. Not that I think every woman who arrives at our doorstep should want to seek our affections, quite the contrary, but I would expect someone who made the effort to come all the way to the Cair to at least have some interest in speaking with us."

"It is a bit odd." Susan agreed, perplexed. "Did she say anything about the reason for her trip? Where is she from? Perhaps if we put in an effort…" As always, Susan was concerned about their guest and was clearly thinking up ways to show their unexpected visitor some of Queen Susan's famous hospitality.

"She is from Doorn," Peter replied "And all I know about her visit is that her father forced her into it, and thought she would enjoy the experience. I get the impression she wants to make her stay as brief as possible. I don't imagine we'll see much of her." He shrugged, his mind now shifting towards the meeting that was fast approaching. As welcomed as the distraction had been last night, he did not have time to theorize about the motivations behind every visit to Cair Paravel. There were more important things at hand.

"Doorn?" Edmund asked, his brown eyes suddenly wide. "As in the Island of Doorn?"

Peter nodded. "I assume so."

"Perhaps this is a visit of more significance then we thought." His siblings said nothing, and he continued. "Doorn is one of the Lone Islands." Edmund stated, as if everyone else was missing something obvious. "Do you not think this is important after last night's news?"

Peter finally understood what his brother was getting at, and chided himself for being so thick. "You mean the rumour about the military coup?" He asked.

Edmund nodded. "Exactly. Perhaps this person can give us some information about the situation there."

"Good point." Peter said quietly, "Though the news we received was from Avra, not Doorn. Nevertheless, she may have heard something before her departure." He paused and looked over at his sisters. "Ed and I have to run off to the meeting in a few moments. Would either of you be able to find the woman and see what she knows about recent events on the Islands?"

Eager to help out with state business, Lucy quickly volunteered. Though she was only fifteen she felt that, after five years, she was fully capable of taking on a larger role in the running of the court. She knew that Peter meant well, but she was increasingly frustrated by his efforts to ensure that she was not overburdened. She was convinced that she could handle more duties, and more then happy to prove herself to her overprotective big brother.

Much to her delight, Peter showed no objection. "Thanks, Lu." He said with a smile before he and Edmund stood up from their seats. "Tumnus, would you mind accompanying her?"

The faun nodded.

"Good." Peter said, with a forlorn glance in the direction of the meeting room. "Ask Mordus to take you to Lady Adara of Doorn. He should know where her room is." He took a quick glance around. "It appears that she has not arrived in the hall yet."

Grinning, Lucy bounced out of her chair and walked towards her brother, a spring in her step. Standing on her toes (Peter had grown quite tall in recent years and had to bend for her to reach him), she gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "I won't let you down." She said, happily. "Have fun at the meeting, Pete."

Peter smiled for a moment, happy to see that he had pleased her (his soft spot for Lucy had not faded over the years).

"Thanks Lu." He replied with a small chuckle. "Though I am not sure "fun" is the word I would use to describe what awaits."

Nodding in Edmund's direction, Peter left the high table and began the unpleasant trek towards the meeting room. Neither brother was particularly happy about what lay ahead, but both had learned long ago that being a king of Narnia was not always as enjoyable as one might imagine.

"Let's get this over with." Peter muttered as his brother reached his side.

Edmund nodded.

"Agreed."

XXXXXXXXX

_A/N So it seems that I am the only one enjoying this- though I suppose fan fiction is always a fairly self-indulgent thing. _

_Feedback is great, and thank you to those who have taken the time to reply. Any comments or criticisms are appreciated. _


	5. Of Meetings and Quests

Peter sighed as he leaned back against his elaborately carved wooden chair. The meeting had resumed a little while ago and, although things were going better then they had the previous night, it was still not a pleasant environment.

He and Edmund had arrived in the meeting room to the sound of loud shouting (many of the council members it seemed, had not tired of their bickering), but that had, thankfully, ended abruptly as Peter entered the room. Most days, he hated when people blatantly changed their behaviour on his behalf (even after five years, he did not see why people felt obliged to act differently around him, High King or not), but today it was a welcomed response. He had no further patience for their pettiness.

After the kings had taken their seats, things had gotten underway in a fairly cordial manner. How to deal with the Calormenes had been the first point of discussion, and Peter was pleased that most now agreed that sending a peaceful delegation to their court would be the best course of action. Peter may have been renowned for his strength on the battlefield, but he was no warmonger, and always felt that diplomacy should be tried before aggression. During his reign, he had long ago vowed, violence would always be a last resort.

With that matter finally out of the way, the discussion had moved to the problem of the Witch's followers, who had been particularly active in recent months. No one was certain what had caused their sudden surge of unrest, but all present knew that it could easily become a significant threat if left unchecked.

"Why not send troops to the southern border to confront them?" One of the council members asked, chancing a glance at the High King. "That seems to be the centre of their activity at the moment."

Several others nodded in agreement, while some let out snorts and cries of disapproval.

Peter said nothing for a moment. It was a tempting idea, but something about that approach did not sit well with him.

"I am not convinced that we should take such action at the current moment." He began slowly, tapping his fingers on the table, as he often did when he was unsettled. "I am well aware of the discontent that seems to be forming in that region, but no actual crime has yet been committed."

Gair, a dwarf who had been a loyal (if somewhat opinionated) advisor for the past several years, did not hide his disagreement. "With all due respect, your majesty." He began gruffly, "Speaking ill of you is enough of a crime, in my opinion, to justify action. I agree that we should move against them now, and imprison as many as possible."

"I do not feel that we can punish our citizens for simply speaking ill of our reign." Peter responded thoughtfully. "It is within their right to object to my leadership and it is not our job to tell Narnians how to think."

"I agree." Edmund cut in, shuffling through the pile of papers and books he had set in front of him. Of all the siblings, Edmund had spent the most time in the castle's library, and always seemed ready to cite some book or document during their many policy discussions. Peter was, as always, grateful for his diligence. "I have a royal decree here, from the year 523, which asserts the right of all citizens to express their political dissent in a lawful manner." He looked up for the yellowed piece of parchment he had been holding and placed it down before proceeding to shuffle though his things. "And this," He began again, holding up another document. "States that meetings held by citizens to discuss such discontent are considered lawful, as long as no harm to others is carried out or plotted."

Peter noticed the proud smile on Oreius' face as Edmund spoke, and he supposed that it mirrored his own expression. Despite his deep hatred of early mornings, disregard for table manners and tendency to tease his siblings mercilessly, the younger king had become an impressively well spoken and well read monarch in recent years. At just seventeen, he already knew more about the laws and governance of Narnia then most of the other dignitaries in the room.

"King Edmund makes a good point." Oreius stated his voice calm and powerful, as always. "If we launch an attack, then we risk causing even further discontent, and will exhibit a troubling disrespect for our own laws. I do not think we can afford such a blunder."

Gair, and an others who favoured a more aggressive tactic, expressed their disagreement with a series of scoffs and shouts, and the formality of the meeting quickly deteriorated as council members on both sides of the debate began to bicker with those around them.

"Enough!" Peter's loud voice echoed through the small chamber and all present fell silent at the king's demand. He resisted the urge to smile, for he was amused and satisfied by their fast compliance, and kept his expression serious.

"I agree with Edmund and Oreius." Peter declared firmly, making an effort to hold himself in the most kingly manner possible in hopes that those around him would respect his authority. Much to his pleasure, no one protested his remark and he was able to continue uninterrupted. "I know that those who remain sympathetic to the White Witch are a cause for concern but, though we have long since rounded up her closest followers, we cannot simply lock up all citizens that remain bitter about her defeat. It is not, as my brother has pointed out, a crime to hold meetings or express a dislike of our rule. We cannot be over zealous in our attempts to weed out discontent and, as the law states, until we have proof that these groups are causing or plotting harm to others, we do not have the right to suppress them."

Gair folded his small arms across his chest and let out a quiet huff. "Then what do you propose we do, your majesty?" He asked gruffly, turning to Peter. "Sit here and do nothing while they convert others to their way of thinking? Wait for them to storm the castle?"

"No," Peter replied, meeting the dwarf's eyes and hoping that he looked more confident then he felt. "I propose sending a peaceful delegation to the south woods to assess the situation. I will not rule out the possible need for aggressive action, but at the current moment we do not know enough to justify such a response. Once the delegation returns and tells us more about the reasons for the recent stirrings in the region, we can make a well-informed decision about what our next move should be."

Gair looked somewhat placated by this answer, and sat back down in his chair with a sigh.

There were a few mutterings of discontent in the room, but Peter chose not to acknowledge them.

"Oreius," He began, turning to his most trusted general. "Would you kindly begin the process of selecting a delegation this evening? I would recommend sending approximately ten men, with enough weapons to defend themselves, should the need arise, but not enough to make them seem as if they are on a hostile mission. We must approach the situation with caution. I trust your judgement on this matter."

The centaur nodded. "Certainly, your majesty."

Peter nodded back, satisfied that (in his approximation) an agreeable solution to this matter had been reached. "Good." He declared, with a quick glance in Edmund's direction. The young man was once again shuffling through his pile of papers; his diligence was unquestionable, but his organizational skills were somewhat lacking, at times. "I suppose that brings us to the matter of the Lone Islands rumour." Peter continued, happy that progress was now being made. "Sallowpad," he turned to face the raven which was perched on the edge of the main table. "Would you kindly tell us again about what you heard in the forest?"

The raven was happy to oblige and, with a quick and proud ruffle of his feathers, he began his tale. "I was on my way to visit an old friend in the western wood yesterday," the bird began, "When I came across a sparrow who looked rather distressed. I stopped to see if I could be of any assistance, and he informed me that he had recently returned from a trip to the Island of Avara and was troubled by what he had seen there. Evidently, he noticed that a pleasant village he had flown over several times in previous years had been almost completely destroyed. There were no signs of life, and almost every structure had been burnt to the ground. As he continued his flight, he saw several soldiers in the area- much more then is custom- and overhead some of them speaking of someone named King Daegan." The raven paused for a moment before continuing. "Unfortunately, he was unable to find out anymore then this, but the look of distress in his eyes told me that what he witnessed was indeed very troubling."

Peter nodded, unsure of what to make of the report, and grateful that his councillor had happened across this particular sparrow. Although Peter and his siblings were, technically, Emperors of the Lone Islands their distance from Narnia meant that contact between the two regions was not frequent. The Islands sent some of their taxes to the Narnian court, and the governors of each Island were expected to deliver a yearly update to the kings and queens, but aside from that their relationship was not close. It was something that Peter intended to look into, but the opportunity to reassess the bond between Narnia and the Lone Islands had not yet presented itself. Perhaps his neglect of the situation would now backfire, he mused worriedly.

"Is the name Daegan familiar to anyone?" Peter asked, looking around the room. Unfortunately, no one seemed to have heard of this mysterious new "king" and no one had any helpful input on the matter. "If true, this is indeed very troubling news." Peter said, his voice quieter then before. Although he felt, as he often did, that he was facing too many complicated challenges at once, he forced himself to remain calm and composed. He had to trust that Aslan would guide them towards some sort of solution.

"The people of the Lone Islands are our subjects, and if a usurper had overthrown the governors and declared himself king, then action must be taken."

He noticed that Gair was nodding, for once approving of his strategy.

"But first," The dwarf's face fell as the High King continued. "We must find out what we are up against. It would be unwise to send in our armies based solely on a rumour."

"Perhaps I can send some of my men to assess the situation?" A gryphon to Peter's left proposed. "Flying to the Islands is much faster then travelling by boat and land."

Peter nodded in agreement. "Very true. How much time do you think it will take for them to travel there and back?"

The gryphon paused for a moment. "Two weeks, at most, I would think." He replied. "I can send them tonight, if you would like."

Seeing that there were no objections to this plan (a rare thing in council meetings), Peter thanked the councillor for his suggestion and approved the sending of a group of gryphons that evening.

"In the meantime," Edmund piped in, looking up from his papers. "We do have a possible source of information in the castle. If we gain any information from her, then perhaps we should convene again tomorrow to discuss possible strategies."

Everyone aside from the two brothers was confused by this statement, and Peter explained. "That is right." He agreed. "A woman from the Island of Doorn arrived yesterday and, depending on when she left the Lone Islands, we think she may be able to give us some assistance. At the very least, she may have heard of this Daegan fellow (even if he had not completed his quest before her departure), and might be able to tell us more about him. Lucy should be meeting with her to discuss the situation as we speak. I will call another meeting tomorrow if we find out anything of use."

He ignored the looks of disapproval on several of the councillors' faces. Some, he knew, did not think it wise to entrust any matters of state to a girl as young as Queen Lucy- but Peter knew his sister better then anyone and thought that she was fully capable of carrying out such duties.

"Now," he began again, feeling that enough had been said on that matter and eager to forge ahead. "As for the problem of the giants…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Soon after Peter and Edmund had left the great hall Lucy, accompanied by her close friend Tumnus, had quickly finished up her breakfast and eagerly went to seek out the faun who could direct them towards Lady Adara of Doorn.

The girl had to fight hard to contain her excitement as the two made their way down one of the long halls of Cair Paravel, though she was unable to stop a grin from pulling at the sides of her mouth. She had only just turned fifteen a few weeks ago, and she was unabashedly happy that Peter now seemed to be putting more faith in her capabilities. Although she had been crowned along with her siblings five long years ago, she knew that (until recently) she had been queen in little more but name. She had few official duties, and Peter had not allowed her to accompany him on any major quests or military endeavours. He was protective of her, and she could understand the sense of responsibility he felt, but she was glad that as the years passed she was increasingly able to contribute to the running of the court and country.

Unlike Susan, who was content to focus her energies on the daily running of the palace and the reception of guests, Lucy was itching to follow her brothers' lead and involve herself in all levels of state business.

This particular assignment was, in her opinion, a step in the right direction. If she could meet wit this woman and provide Peter and Edmund with the information they needed, she was certain that both would be impressed. She knew that it was, perhaps, silly of her to concern herself so deeply with their approval, but it was a tendency that she was unable to repress.

"Ah, it seems we have arrived." Tumnus stated, stopping in front of a large wooden door which led to one of the palace's many staff residences. Clearing his throat, he knocked twice, and both were pleased when the individual they desired to see opened the door.

"Good morning, Mordus." Lucy said with a smile, addressing the faun Peter had instructed her to seek out. "The High King has informed me that you readied a room for Lady Adara of Doorn last evening. Could you kindly tell us which room she is occupying?"

The faun looked confused for a moment, but gave his Queen a hasty bow. "Of course, your majesty. I led her too one of the guest rooms in the north wing, second hallway, third door on your left."

Lucy smiled, thanking the faun for his assistance. He gave another bow, and quickly closed the door with a crisp bang.

They could hear his hooves rapidly clicking back down the hallway on the other side.

Tumnus stared at the door for a moment, his brow furrowed and his eyes thoughtful. "He has been acting a bit odd lately." Tumnus observed, referring to the other faun. "I know he is still new to the castle, but I would have expected his nerves to disappear after all of these months."

Lucy nodded, also thinking the other faun to be a bit strange, but her mind did not dwell on that fact for long. There were more important matters to attend to.

Noticing his friend's eagerness, Tumnus shrugged and pushed the thought from his head. "Well, no matter." He said, turning towards the north wing with a smile. "Shall we begin our quest, Miss. Lucy?"

She smiled back, linking her arm with his as they started off towards their destination.

"I think we shall!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_A/N- Please review, I could use some feedback and inspiration. I realized that anonymous reviews were blocked on my account and have now changed the setting. Like it? Hate it? Let me know. _

_Dealing with a bit of a post-New Years haze today, so I hope there are not too many mistakes._

_Happy 2009! _


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